Fighting Until The End
by theAnGerFlarE
Summary: Tony finds himself kidnapped by the God of Mischief, the same man that had invaded New York and tried to take over his mind. With the Avengers out of his grasp, he has to face the god alone. It's not easy trying to escape from Loki's clutches, but Tony Stark never goes down without a fight. (Eventual FrostIron!)
1. Tied Up

_So I've been wanting to make a fanfiction about Tony and Loki for the longest time, and I think I've finally hit something. Just so you guys know, this is the first time I've ever attempted something like this, so if it sucks, I'm sorry. :/ _

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Tony awoke with a start, sweaty and cold. Darkness surrounded him, and he wasn't sure where he was, exactly. A sharp smell invaded his nostrils, and he cringed and turned his head away. What the hell was that? It took him a minute, but he realized that he couldn't feel his hands. And he couldn't move. Horrified, he twisted in place, his hands chained to the wall.

_Where the fuck am I? _He kicked listlessly at the air, a pathetic attempt at getting free. After a few minutes of throwing his body into the air and realizing that he wasn't going to move from the damned spot on the wall, he cursed and sat on the cold ground. He could still smell that horrible weird smell in the air.

The last thing he remembered he was in his kitchen of the Stark Tower, making a cup of coffee to drink so that he could lay on the couch and watch a movie. Maybe a stupid one, or a funny one. And then he would start looking for a new CEO of his business, and that itself would have taken hours. But all those plans went to shit as the rest of his memory faded away and was replaced by this sudden reality, a dark and stinky one.

Another wave of stink washed over him, and he held back the urge to puke. Strangely enough, the smell was familiar, as though he smelled it before.

"Goddammit." he muttered, wrenching his hands and feeling the metal chafe his skin. He looked around him again, hoping that his eyes would adjust to the darkness a bit better. It really didn't, but he could see the outlines of large objects right in front of him. Frustration built up inside of him: who the hell had the ability to come into the Tower and kidnap him, chaining him to the damned wall like some kind of animal and leaving him to smell that horrible odor?

"HEY!" he screamed out, his throat ripping from the noise. "WHO THE HELL IS OUT THERE!? COME OUT AND SHOW YOUR FACE LIKE A MAN! OR WOMAN! OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU ARE!"

There was no answer, not that he expected one. He rested his head tiredly against the wall, closing his eyes in frustration. Of course this would happen to _him. _What the hell had he done? He thought he had done a pretty good job of laying low after the little Avengers mission he was part. Staying in New York and working on his Iron-man suit wasn't exactly laying low, according to the press, but he didn't care about their opinion.

The only opinion he cared about was Pepper's. And she wasn't a part of his life anymore, even though there was a small part of him that wished that she was. He shook his head and clenched his teeth: now was no time to get all sappy and damned sentimental. He had to find a way out, even if that meant chewing on his arms to escape.

Which it looked like it might come down to that.

Grunting, he pushed himself into a standing position, his legs trembling underneath him. He was still pinned, even though he was still trapped against the cold stone wall. Sweat ran down his face, making him colder than ever. He tried to walk forwards to maybe lodge the chains loose, but he failed miserably and ended up losing his balance. He fell back to the floor in a pathetic thump, his ass cracking on the concrete floor.

_Damn. _He jerked his head back up, feeling as helpless as he did when he was trapped in Afghanistan. Except the only difference was that he was warm and had _some _access to materials. Not to mention that everyone there was an idiot who was incapable of handling themselves.

A small light switched on at his futile movements, and he blinked, the light hurting his eyes. After a few moments, the darkness had faded and he could actually see what was around him, the objects illuminated in the florescent light.

To his surprise, and than disgust, he realized that he was in the basement of the Stark Tower. The large objects around him were discarded Iron-man suits and designs, and the horrible smell was the pile of greasy oil that was in a puddle only a couple feet away from him. Angrily, he looked up at his chains and saw that it was plain metal chains. It was attached to the concrete little hook on the wall, where he usually hung his coats.

Tony blinked and stared at the surrounding areas, unsure if this was even real. Was this a practical joke made by Fury? He always knew the man wasn't fond of him, but this would be a bit too far, right? Maybe it was Spangles, they had never gotten along. No, no and no. He couldn't see any of the Avengers doing this in their free time, much less since now most of them were on opposite ends of the universe. Or in Thor's case, opposite ends of the cosmic universe.

He groaned and put his head on the wall, temporarily giving up.

Whoever it was, they were going to get a beat-down like no other. As soon as he was free, he was going to get his suit and pummel them into the ground like the stupid Chitauri. Those thoughts were the only part of comfort that he had at the moment, instead of basking in how helpless he felt.

"Jarvis?" he spoke aloud, hoping that the AI would answer. He desperately needed someone to come and help him, even if that person was a robot made by his own hand.

"Yes sir?" the AI spoke swiftly, sounding exactly the same. Tony sighed, a small bit of relief coming to him. It helped him relax a little.

"Can you bring a video that explains what the hell happened to me? I can't remember for the life of me." Tony tugged on the chains again, hoping that there would be some miracle and they would crack. They didn't.

"I am sorry sir, but I cannot do said action." Jarvis said smoothly. "I have been forbidden."

"Forbidden?" Tony's eyes grew wide. Was this a fucking joke? He really wanted someone to pop out from behind the wall and yell 'Surprise!'. There would be some punching, and then some laughing, and it'd all be good. Unfortunately, there was a feeling deep in his gut that said otherwise. "Who the hell authorized that, Jarvis? I'm the one who created you!"

"My protocol has been overwritten Mr. Stark. I am sorry for the inconvenience." Jarvis spoke, the voice was pleasant and light as ever. "Your captor will be here shortly to free you."

Tony stared at the ceiling in disbelief, as though Jarvis speaking in tongues. His captor? What was this, the medieval times or something? It wasn't like the person had kidnapped him and took him to an abandoned building like they did in the movies. Nope, this was kinda lame compared to that.

Now it was all silent again, the AI going back to whatever he did during the day. There wasn't even the comfort sounds of technology to help calm him down, none of the suits worked and there wasn't a clock to even tick. The silence was going to drive him insane, he already knew it. He sighed heavily and felt his shoulders shudder a bit from the cold. The basement was freaking freezing. He made a mental note to change that.

If he ever got out, that is.

He sat there for what felt like hours. The minutes painfully ticked by, pounding into his head just how stuck he was. From time to time, he would yell out again and try to get a reaction out of someone, anyone. But there was nothing, not even the sounds of footsteps walking around. It was though there was no one but him in the damned Tower. Just his tied-up self like foreplay gone wrong.

His stomach grumbled, and he realized with a jolt just how hungry he was. Tony grimaced and tugged slightly on the chains again, not so he could get free, but more out of sheer boredom. He hadn't even eaten that day, just a sad little cup of coffee that he probably didn't even finish. Hell, it was probably still sitting on that little table in the living room, right in front of the TV and on top of all his business papers.

And to top it all off, he really had to use the bathroom. His bladder was going to explode if he didn't relieve himself soon. If push came to shove, he would have to go in his pants. It was a route that he really didn't want to take, though. It was humiliating. And he had good jeans on, too.

Just when he thought he was going to die of doing absolutely nothing, he finally heard sounds shuffling upstairs. Whoever it was simply walked into the Tower like it was their own. Tony sat up as far as he could with the restraints, and leaned forwards, alert. Now he was getting somewhere, finally. And hopefully to a bathroom.

The door to the basement slid open silently, and a figure dressed in black and green leather strode in. Tony felt his mouth drop open, forgetting entirely about his rumbling stomach or his full bladder.

There stood Loki, standing with his arms behind his back and grinning at him as though he had just won a large prize.

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	2. Hubris

"Man of Iron." Loki spoke pleasantly, as though they were going to tea together. There was a sick grin on his face, as though he had numerous tortures planned for Tony. The stupid arrogant aura around the god hadn't disappeared, in all actuality, it had intensified. Loki continued to speak as though Tony wasn't glaring daggers at him. "It is nice to see that you are in your natural state. That is where you belong, tied and chained to the wall like the helpless little mortal that you are. Doesn't it feel right?"

Tony scoffed, despite the fact that Loki was right in him being helpless. "Screw off, Reindeer Games. I don't know if this is obvious, but I'm getting really sick of this shit with you. Contrary to what you believe, you can't just come in here and do whatever you want."

"Oh, I can't?" Loki grinned wider, rubbing the side of his face elegantly. "I believe that I can, and I did. You are the one that is tied to the wall, and not me."

_Valid point. _Tony shrugged. "I don't want you tied up anywhere. That just makes me feel as though we're about to do something we're not, and I don't need that unpleasant image in my brain right now. Why don't you let me go and we'll go out for shwarma? My treat."

Loki's face twitched with amusement. "I don't want your greasy mortal meat."

"What do you want then?" Tony felt his face drop to a scowl. He was starting to lose feelings in his arms and hands, and that was a horrible sensation. Plus, he still really needed to piss. He was going to pee himself if he didn't get to a bathroom in the next five seconds- and he really didn't need Loki to have another reason to laugh at him.

"I escaped Asgard, and I am never to return." Loki said simply, gently touching the ruined suits. One finger ran down the metal, the fingernail scraping at the steel. "The rest of it is a marvelous adventure, one that I do not want to tell you. But I needed a place to stay in hiding for the meantime, without Thor knowing of my whereabouts."

"You couldn't have chosen Captain America or something?" Tony snapped, his mouth running on it's own account. "Seriously, there were five of us. Why the hell are you so intent on taking my Tower?"

Loki chuckled. "You are merely a cover to protect me. I wish for you to hide me in your Tower until I feel it is safe to leave once more. Then I will depart from Earth."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at the statement, incredulous about what the dark-haired god was saying. The guy tried to take over the world and failed miserably, only to escape the prison up in the great city in the sky. He was a fugitive now, crawling in the shadows in order to escape the po-po. And out of all the places: his Tower. The same place that he tried to throw Tony out of. There was so much irony in the situation that he could hardly believe it. When Tony's laughter subsided, he shook his head and tried to keep his giggles out of his voice.

"You're joking." he snorted. "There's no way I'm letting you stay here in my Tower. Especially since you're a deranged little god who has a fetish for taking over people's minds. Now untie me, and get the hell out of my house."

Loki's face darkened tremendously. This was apparently not the rebuttal that he expected, and Tony felt a little achieved at that. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious at what was going to happen next. Knowing the god, it was either going to result in him getting backhanded or slammed into the floor. Surprisingly, it was neither of those two things.

The chains holding him to the wall suddenly broke, the metal crumbling as though it was paper. Falling to a useless little metal ball at his side, Tony was finally to bring down his arms and actually rub them, getting some feeling back into them. It was an immense relief, now he felt a lot less confined. A plan was hatching in his mind, a plan for attack. Still rubbing his wrists as though they were aching, his brain was actually moving at lightning speed, trying to decide when he would activate his suit.

"Get up." Loki snarled, snapping his fingers. He looked really pissed off, his mouth tight around the corners as though he was debating whether to backhand Tony to the floor or not.

Pathetically obedient, he got to his feet. Trying to shrug off the discomfort that Loki was giving him, he brushed past the god flippantly and made his way towards the sliding basement door. The door slid open with ease, and Jarvis didn't say a word.

Walking up towards the living room with a sullen god following, Tony couldn't help but stare at the ceiling, waiting for Jarvis to say in that monotone voice that he had cleaned up his override and was working for Tony again, but there wasn't anything from the AI. It was as though he was cut off, or under someone else's control. And Tony was willing to bet big bucks that Loki had somehow managed to hack into the system.

Although he didn't even know how that was possible, considering the god was an alien from the medieval period of the universe. Judging on the way Thor acted when he first saw a television, the people of Asgard had probably never seen a computer or knew anything about AIs. Hell, the concept of a working toilet was probably the newest invention lately.

Speaking of a toilet, that was the first thing that Tony went into. With the silent god sitting on the couch, he quickly made a beeline into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. With shaky hands, he locked the door and then relieved himself, sighing as the pressure in his abdomen decreased. Never had pissing felt so good in life.

When he was done, he washed his hands and looked up in the mirror. The sight made him cringe. He had a bruise on his forehead, right above his right eye. There was a tiny cut on his bottom lip, not that he knew where it came from. He looked like he just got done fighting off bullies on the playground. As he dried his hands off and put the towel on the gold rack, he reached into the cabinet behind the sink.

There was his two metal bracelets, the things that were about to save his ass. He clipped them on, securing them tightly onto the skin. Rolling the sleeves to cover them, he was about to leave the bathroom and face the God, he got a last desperate idea.

"Jarvis." he whispered, hoping that the AI wouldn't sound an alarm throughout the entire tower.

Thankfully, it didn't. Jarvis answered, swift as ever. "Hello, sir."

"Jarvis, what the hell is up with you?" Tony hissed, staring at the ceiling like a complete idiot. He hoped that Loki couldn't hear him, or wonder why he was taking too long. "Who overrode your protocols?"

"That is classified information, Mr. Stark. I recommend leaving the bathroom and obeying Mr. Laufeyson's orders. My statistics tell me that you will be much safer." Jarvis confirmed.

Tony groaned and slapped his forehead with his hand, forgetting that there was a bruise there. "Okay, whatever. You're useless right now, Jarv."

"Always a pleasure, sir."

Muttering curses and other unpleasant things to himself, he unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, expecting to see Loki exactly where he was: on the couch. But of course, there was no God of Mischief to be seen.

Tony stood in disbelief, looking around the living room in a panic. Did Loki seriously just walk out and leave him here? What was the entire point of that, possibly beating him up and handcuffing him to a wall for hours? Did he finally get the hint when Tony told him to get the hell out of his house? He hoped so, he didn't want to see the god's arrogant face for the rest of his life. But knowing that Loki was still out there, free, was enough to give him nightmares forever.

He cautiously walked out in the room, still looking around for him. He didn't even _hear _the damn guy get up and walk out. It was as though he was some alien ninja, sliding across the floor so that he was both silent and deadly. The thought was almost amusing, if he wasn't a bit tense.

It was as though Loki had never been there. Not one paper had been rustled, there was still a mug of coffee sitting on them, and the remote casually on the couch as though he was about to watch a movie; as he planned that morning. There wasn't even a butt-print on the couch that would indicate someone sitting there.

Tony considered the fact that he might be going insane, little by little.

Before he could go and try to reprogram Jarvis to his normal settings, Tony felt a really strong hand on his shoulder. The force of it pushed into his shoulder blades, making him collapse on to the floor in pain. As his knees fell onto the floor, he turned his head to see his perpetrator. The last thing he saw before the explosion of stars was a black leather boot flying towards him.

It slammed into his face, and the back of his head hit the floor. Tony let out a small grunt as something hard came into contact with his stomach. The kicking persisted, and he started to feel like he was about to puke blood all over the floor. When the painful blows came to a ceasing halt, Tony tried to open his eyes to crawl away.

Coughing, his arms flailed outwards as he struggled, like a fish out of water. Tony turned onto his aching stomach and tried to crawl away, his vision blurring before him.

"No, no no." a sly voice said above him, and Tony's stomach dropped. So Loki didn't leave the Tower after all, he was merely waiting for Tony like a predator to prey.

Tony spluttered, disgusted at the blood that spewed from his mouth. He tried to crawl away from Loki, but he was going as fast as a damned snail. It was as though his energy suddenly drained from his body. He felt a foot step onto his ass, to prevent him from moving any further.

"Tony, please." Loki's voice purred by his ear. A cold hand was running through his hair, gently at first, and then rough. It started to hurt. Tony's head was yanked back as Loki pulled, and a yelp of pain escaped from his throat. Loki continued to speak as though it was an innocent encounter. "Since you were not willing to share your home with me, I will simply take it by force."

Tony grit his teeth against the pressure against his ass and the pain spreading across his scalp. "L-leave me alone." he mumbled. It wasn't exactly the comeback he had in mind, but there wasn't much room for thinking.

Loki smiled at him, green eyes glittering. "I cannot. I have no other choice."

"There's always a choice, Princess." Tony spat, spitting blood in his face. A dribble of pink splattered on Loki's cheek.

The god didn't even flinch, it was though he had gotten the same treatment before. But there was a streak of rage across his face, and before Tony even knew it, Loki backhanded him with one powerful slam.

Tony's head banged onto the floor again, and as he lifted his head to stare at his attacker, there was another blow. And another. And another. After what seemed like an eternity of being pummeled, Tony wasn't coherent anymore. The world was spinning above him in a terrifying tornado. It reminded him of the Chitauri attack, when he was flying up towards the weird blue wormhole, attacking the aliens as he flew upwards..

He coughed and blinked, feeling blood run down the side of his face. Loki still had a good grip on his hair, but at least he had stopped stepping on him like dirt.

"Better?" Loki asked, his voice a gentle soft again. "Will you obey me now, Man of Iron?"

_Please make it stop. _A voice in his head begged, pleaded with him. The pain was climbing up to unbearable intensities. But there was a sharp sting of something within him that still argued against his pathetic human needs. It was pride. Sharp pride was breaking through whatever pain he was going through. No one tried to break down the great Tony Stark, the billionaire, the genius. **_Iron Man himself._ **This was the utmost disrespect.

And that disrespect made Tony angry, more angrier than he had been when New York was being attacked. Who did Loki think he was? Maybe his body was weak and human, but that doesn't mean he'd stop fighting.

He'd never stop fighting Loki, for as long as he lived.

"Fuck off." He spat, despite the blood trickling in his eyes. "I'd rather be dead than obey you, asshat."

Loki's smile dripped off his face. A snarl took its place, with a small shred of disbelief. "You are not as smart as I once thought. Say goodbye to your freedom, Tony Stark."

Tony saw one more fist flying towards his face, and then there was nothing but darkness.

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	3. Did You Beat Me Up, Bruce?

_The Chitauri were flying at him. _

_There was a huge fucking hole in the sky, swirling blue and black and growing bigger by the second. Supplied by the Tesseract, he knew that it would grow until it swallowed the rest of the sky. Until it swallowed the rest of New York and then Earth itself. _

_His Iron-man suit was flying upwards, towards the Chitauri, fighting them. His fists smashed into hard metal, his throat constricting as he felt long curved claws tear it's way through the steel suit, like tissue paper. _

_It seemed no matter how fast he flew, there was always something on his tail. _

"No!"

_Tony screamed out, a loud noise rushing in his ear. There was something trickling down his face.. but he was too busy to notice it and wipe it off. He was intently focused on Jarvis's voice, hoping that the AI was still with him every second. "Jarvis...?" _

"Goddammit, stop! Please!"

_Natasha was screaming at him in one ear, while Captain America was yelling in the other. There was so much yelling, so much chaos, so much screaming and crying that Tony barely knew where to start first. The aliens were flying towards his face, screaming at the top of their little robotic lungs. Ready to spear him in the chest to kill him. He could see it in their beady eyes. _

"Make it stop! Make it fucking stop!"

_"I'm bringing the party to you." Tony saw a huge worm-like creature following him, the jaws nearly snapping on his feet, nearly crushing his ankles in the massive teeth._

"St-stop!"

_"That doesn't look like a party, Stark." _

"N-n.. Someone! Someone help!"

_The wormhole was swallowing him again, this time he had a nuclear bomb in his arms. He was pushing himself to go further, praying fervently to make it out okay, but knowing deep inside, he wouldn't. _

"Please, I'm begging.. I- I'm sorry!"

_Everything was going black. There was a light. An explosion. _

_A shadow of Loki, stalking him, waiting for him._

_Everything was going black. _

Tony awoke with screaming on the top of his lungs, words still spilling out of his mouth even as he tried to wake himself up from the horrible nightmare he had. There was a torrent of 'I'm sorry's' and begging of the invisible torturing to stop, and as he sat up and tried to calm himself down, the words still bounced around his head.

He had been begging for mercy, he knew. As pitiful as it was, he just wanted the endless suffering to finally cease. It wasn't the first time he had had one of those horrible dreams either. It was a reoccurring thing.

Again, not something he was proud of in the slightest.

Tony slowly rolled onto his side and winced at the sudden, sharp pain that shot through his torso. God, what the hell did he do last night? There was no woman in the bed beside him. In fact, the other side was completely empty, even the pillow that Pepper used to use was gone. Tony tried to turn around on the other side, only to have another sharp pain shoot through him.

Walking was a total pain in the ass, he found out. He stumbled to the bathroom, slowly, cursing and holding his abdomen the entire way. As soon as he got to it, he dragged himself into the shower and turned on the hot water, letting himself sink onto the floor of the tub and letting the hot water rinse over his aching body. There was no surprise as he looked down at his bare skin and saw heavy bruising, especially over his ribcage.

Damn, did he just go through a round with the Hulk and break a couple ribs?

He gingerly rubbed his bruised side, hoping that he had some antibiotics to cure that. Or better yet, maybe some alcohol to soothe that pain. Yeah, he could go for that. Some scotch and a martini to wash it down. Tony almost grinned at the anticipation of the soft burning in his throat, and the fuzziness that would come afterward. Maybe he'd go to a party and socialize.

His muscles calmed down and he slunk against the wall, a lovely hum in his throat at the thought.

A voice echoed in his head, sending his relief crashing down at his feet in the shower. The sly, rich voice of the man who had thrown him out the Tower, the guy that was still hanging out in his Tower, probably on his damn couch. The guy that had beat him to a pulp until he was unconscious.

Loki.

Tony stood there in the shower, dumbfounded, unable to move an inch. He stared at the wet tile, dripping with steam and mist, and saw a blurry reflection of himself. He suddenly remembered everything that happened the night before, every single strange detail that had seemed so insignificant. Tied up in the basement and realizing that Jarvis didn't work anymore, only to find out that Loki had everything in his Tower locked and under his control. Tony was like a slave now, a prisoner.

_A prisoner of Loki. _He thought dully. What did Asgardians do to their prisoners? Weren't they stuck in the medieval times or something? Didn't they torture their prisoners, pull them up from the verge of death only to play with them a bit more? He could only imagine himself being stuck to a stone wall, chained and shackled, beaten and bloody, on the verge of death. And with Loki on the other end of that torture, holding a whip with that sick grin on his face.

_"Kneel for me, Man of Iron." _

Tony lurched forwards a bit, his empty stomach reeling. What would happen once Tony finally gave up, and actually knelt at Loki's feet? From what the little information Thor had told him about Asgardian justice, he was sure that he would be used in... other things as well.

Things like rape.

This time, Tony vomited all over the tile of his bathroom shower. There wasn't anything left in his stomach but bile, and that was exactly what was speared on the wall. Feeling even more sick, he dry-heaved until his stomach ached and his throat burned from the air. Trying to balance himself with one hand propped on the clean wall, he tried to breathe in and calm down.

It wasn't really working, to be honest.

Tony slowly panted and stood himself up straight, feeling as though he had aged five years in a single second. Turning off the water, he stepped out the shower totally butt-naked, dripping wet, and not giving a single fuck.

Slowly toweling himself off, he went through his normal movements like he was in a trance. He stared blankly in a mirror as he shaved, attempting to go through a normal day routine. As he was finished, he just dropped his razor in the sink and dully moved on to wash his face.

Who was he kidding? There was nothing normal about this. There was nothing normal about having a homicidal god walking around his Tower, trying to own him because he was a mere little mortal compared to him. No matter how Tony was going to pretend to live in his own little world, nothing was ever going to be the same again.

He stepped out of the shower into his bedroom, feeling the cold air prickle his skin into goosebumps. He made his way towards his closet, pulling the door open with a single move.

"Sir." Jarvis spoke, monotone as ever. "I see that you have refreshed yourself from sleep. Once you get dressed, Loki wishes to speak to you."

Tony cringed at the name, his blood turning cold. He hesitated before speaking, his voice almost trembling. "And what if I refuse, Jarvis?"

"I will have no choice but to tell Mr. Laufeyson, and he will deal with you accordingly."

Tony pulled out jeans and a simple shirt, throwing them on the bed in disgust. He slammed his closet shut, frustrated. But he couldn't afford to get the shit pounded out of him again. His body would probably give out long before his willpower did. And Loki wouldn't have a problem with that.

As sad and pathetic he was- he still wanted to _live. _

He pulled on his jeans and slowly zipped up the zipper, and then pulling on his shirt. Knowing that Jarvis was watching his every move and breath was unsettling, now that he thought about it. Before, Jarvis had been his protector, his eye for the outside world, the one thing that had always stuck by him even when he was alone. Hell, he always looked forwards to hearing from Jarvis when he got home nowadays.

It was as though the AI actually cared about him. Well, not anymore.

Tony walked towards the door and heard an unlocking noise, from Jarvis unlocking his bedroom door. He didn't even realize that his bedroom door was locked the entire time. What was he going to do from his room anyway? Escape into the hallway?

He walked down the hall and heard the door slide shut behind him, locking again. Keeping his eyes on the stairwell in front of him, he pushed down another bout of vomit and tried to gather up his courage.

Time to meet Loki.

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